2: Welcome to My Life! | This is a small scrap-book of my life. it contains descriptions of me, parts of my past, and many more things. please enjoy :) | Me wearing some shades

3: A Styrofoam cup, that i decorated with my straw.

4: Chapter 1 | Me at my friend's bat mitzvah | You hear the screeching of guitars radiating through the ground, and a set of parents yelling at him to turn! It! Down! The ground beneath you is almost vibrating from the sound waves bouncing around. That’s me, James; the music loving, hard rocking, chill guy. I have red hair, brown eyes, and pale; easily burnable skin. It really irritates me when people call me a ginger. It’s condescending. I have an athletic build, strong all over (for my size). I have very strong hands and fingers. They’re perfect for playing guitar and bass. I have calluses on my finger tips to protect me from cuts from the strings. I’d say my since in fashion is pretty average. Jeans and tee-shirt is my norm. It’s like I carry home around with me. My personality is quite deep, yet hilarious. I like putting a lot of thought into what I say, and I often overthink things. I’m very opinionated, and I’m never afraid to voice it. I’m very confident with almost everything, and I never get stage fright. I’m pretty much fearless, with the acceptation of the fear of getting hurt.

5: Description of Me | Just a random picture | I like music, a lot; and artful things. Anything that makes me think I find amazing. I like being wowed. I love it. I hate it when I get scared; it makes me feel like an ant next to a boot. I also hate feeling anxious, or having a lot of work to do. It’s like I have a huge mountain to climb, and its really scary sometimes. But I just take it step by step. I also hate it when people don’t think before they speak. I feel like they aren’t saying what they really think because they can’t put it into words. My goal in life is to do what I love. Every day. Just do what I love to do, which is make music. Music is my passion and it’s the only thing I can actually imaging myself doing when I grow up. When I grow up I would like to live anywhere with a music scene. I never want to sign to a label; I want to be my own label. And always keep my music pure. I enjoyed writing about myself, though it was hard. I can’t always come up with more ideas for writing when it’s not fiction, but reality. This made me realize some things about myself which I’ve long forgotten. All in all, this is me; In this paper. So you can decide for yourself. Do you like me, or not?

6: Chapter 2 -Family | Close your eyes and think of family. Do you think of all the warm times? The comfort of your house, the love you encounter with the people around you? Because these are all the things I think about when family is brought up. And even though our family has had its up and downs, we still have floated on happily. Even through our differences, I know I can always turn to my brothers, sisters, or parents for anything. | Me and my family's Christmas photo

7: Mom | My mom is a role model to me, and is one of the nicest people I know. In an attempt to describe her, she’s 5’3”, nice, hilarious, and can be sarcastic. Chocolate is her Achilles’ heel, and she also likes pedicures and the color purple. And if there’s one thing she just won't stand for, it's bullying. Dishonesty is second on that list. Bad smells also really irritate her, which goes to say, if I ever get in the kitchen, she’s outta there like a baseball on a hot summer day. She’s a certified teacher and studied at Trinity Uni. And she’s working as a social worker at the school right now. She loves to play solitaire and her and I always just talk to each other. Whether it’s the weather or problems in school, she always has my back. | My Mom right after she graduated college

8: Dad | I love my dad, with all my heart. Just picture a well built, yet a little pudgy, guy with gray hair and you’ll see my dad. He’s an awesome person; stubborn, and he’s easily aggravated, but is always honest with me and always wishes the best. He loves to run, (he’s actually training for a marathon right now), cook, and clean. The things he hates are dishonesty, and exaggerations. Then he studied at CLC College to be a licensed landscaper. My Dad’s hobbies are running, meditating, and cooking. Together we listen to the radio while eating brunch and we occasionally we play catch together. | My dad right after he ran a marathon in 20004

9: Nathan | My brother Nathan is the youngest in my family, and he’s also definitely the most random! If I were to describe him I’d say he’s funny, smart, creative, but can also be excruciatingly annoying. He loves his music almost as much as I do. We have very different tastes in music, so I love showing him new bands. Plus, he loves playing his viola, (which just so happens to be his only hobby), orchestras, all animals (especially frogs), and the band, “The Postal Service”. But he hates a lot of things too, like unfair accusations, drug/alcohol, a lot of my music, and yelling. He’s a fifth grader in W.C. Petty elementary school. And the thing we definitely do together the most is play a certain card game called Sopio. He’s isn’t just a great brother to me, but he’s also a great friend. | Nathan getting ready to go to soccer practice

10: Sean | Sean is the most musically inclined person in my family. He’s short for his age, has brown hair, and blue eyes. Sean’s strongly opinionated and an extremely hard worker. Guitar is his bread and butter. He plays it day and night, every single day. Music, people who listen to music and thrift stores are just some of the things he loves. But he hates bad music, and things that don’t make since. Still being a senior at ACHS, he’s working as a bus-boy at The Harbor Club. Together he shows me new music, and we jam on our instruments together. Sean’s my favorite brother and has always been there for me when I was down. | My bro at a flaming lips concert

11: Rebecca | My sister Rebecca is, sad to say, my least favorite. We argue with this brown hair, brown eyed witch all the time due to her stubbornness. Rebecca is a consistent liar. She hates are me, and the truth. Actually the only things she likes are music, friends, and cats (if you ask me, I think she’s going to be a crazy cat lady some day). And as far as jobs go, I think she needs to get one, because she owes me $65 dollars. She’s a freshman at ACHS. Together all we really do is yell! But despite all of this, I still love her. Though I’m not always sure why... | sister at the zoo

12: Alex | Alex is my half sister, and is very nice. She has Brown hair, and brown eyes just like me. She also has a fantastic smile. We often talk while eating breakfast when she come down from Chicago. she lives there, and goes to Loyola Uni. shes now majoring in social working. She likes taking walks, and going to parties. She hates it when people lie, and when its really really cold out. she's working at a social working facility, which i don't know the name of, and is having a lot of fun. i wish her the best :) | Alex on a date

13: Conclusion | In conclusion, my MOSTLY loving family is what keeps me going through life. They are supporting, encouraging, and very nice. I could never even begin to imagine a world without them. But I should really thank my parents for raising not only awesome siblings, but amazing friends too. | our family friends from Peru visiting

14: Chapter 3: | Have you ever been curious about how you got here? On this planet? Well thats exactly what I’ve been wondering for a while. So I finally sat down with my parents and asked them a few questions about my birth. this is what they answered: Q: What time was i born? A: 3:00 Pm. Q: Was I a laborious pregnancy? A: No, not really. Q: On a scale of 1-10 how cute was I? A: You were a 10, of course! Q: What hospital was I born at? A: Highland Park hospital. Q: Did I cry a lot? A: No. Not very much. Q: What was my favorite toy? A: Your HANDY DANDY NOTEBOOK! Q: What music did i listen too? A: Raffi, and Ella Jankens. | Chillin on the floor back in liberty ville

15: Simpler Times | Q: What was my first word? A: Ball. Q: What was my favorite thing to do? A: You often pretend you were driving in plastic car. Q: Favorite food? A: Arrow root cookies Q: Favorite television program? A: Bob the Builder. Q: Favorite book? A: Goodnight moon, or anything by Eric Carle. Q: What was the some of most memorable things about when i was younger? A: You always loved rubbing your face, and having us rub your face. You also wore a lot of hats, and always carried things! you were very smart, and strong. and you LOVED to bite people. only people you knew though! No one else. I remember Sean (brother) was always scared of you! I learned a lot about my child hood by asking my parents. i highly recommend doing it! its very funny and educating at the same time. | On my brother Sean's lap

16: Second grade just the thought of it makes me shudder. It was with-out –a-question, one of my WORST school years. For one, my teacher was HORRIBLE. She yelled, screamed, and called us all slackers. Second grade slackers. Next, the librarian was the most cruel, mean, sad-excuse-for-an-educator in the school. And we defenseless second graders had to go every week. Mrs. Kulinsky, *sigh*. Let me just say, she was NOT the highlight of the year. Her “teaching” methods weren’t exactly second grade material. For example, she made us do cursive. I know what you’re thinking, “cursive? Doesn’t sound THAT bad.” Well you weren’t in Mrs. Kulinsky’s class. She was like a military sergeant, she made us write ‘till our hands were cramping, then forced us through another ten minutes. If we dared whine, then she would yell at us to keep going. No matter what, keep writing. Then at the end of class she made us bring up our cursive books, to be graded. Just one mistake and we were on another lecture about how we were slacking, and not trying. The entire time we would all be refraining from crying, then on the way home we would all talk about her. One of my friends said he wished he were in someone else’s class. If we could agree on one thing, it’d be that Mrs. Kulinsky was the worst teacher any of us have ever had. | Chapter 4. My worst year ever! | My 2nd grade school photo

17: Another thing that made second grade stink was the librarian, Mrs. Hartman. Well all of us second graders would call her Mrs. Heartless, because of how horrible she was. Every Wednesday our class would go down to the library to checkout a new book. Now checking out a book was not fun at all. In the beginning we would find an interesting book, and bring it up to the counter, were the evil Mrs. Hartman stood, waiting to suck the happiness out of the next kid. She would stare at you like a hungry tiger, eying a juicy deer. Then she would ask, “Do you want something?” like it was her job to be sarcastic. Then you would tell her that you needed to check out a book, and that you needed your library stick. At this point, it could go one of two ways. One, she could yell at you that your book was too easy, or too hard. So then you needed to find a new book. Or two, she would hand you your stick, well I say give, when if you asked anyone they would more likely say jab, and then you would check out your book. Then you were told to, “GET OUTTA HERE!” then you would run back to class, feeling like you just cheated DEATH. Do I want to go back to second grade? Well that’s like asking if I want to get yelled at for a full year. So as you can see, I have some pretty good reasons to say second grade sucked. I’d thought Mrs. Kulinsky and Mrs. Hartman were going to be the death of me. BUT, I did learn something from second grade. It’s that there are good teachers, and bad teacher. And you never know which you’re going to get. Like life. “Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you gonna get.”-Forest Gump. | Me and my family at the Morton Arboretum

18: Chapter 5 | Imagine flying through the air, faster than you ever thought possible; at least a story above the ground. You fell amazing; like your flying. It’s just mind-blowing. You hope it will last forever. But this moment quickly passes as you begin to fall. You’re crashing back to reality. You have hardly any time to think. You remember the rule of thumb when it comes to bike riding, when falling, through bike. You do exactly that, only your foot gets caught right in the frame of the bike. It goes in. deep. You look down and see no chance of getting away. You close your eyes and brace for impact. 2 loud snaps later you’re in a hospital about to be operated on. This was what happened to me on June 13 2011, the day I broke my leg. It was an average summer day; going out with my friends, playing baseball, chilling out, just an awesome day. Until we decide to go bike riding. It would turn out to be one of the biggest mistakes of my life. We ride round the neighbor -hood till I decide to show them my favorite bike ramp. It’s a large, slippery, ramp made out of dirt by some townhouses. We jump for a while, having fun. Till my friend Greg calls me over for a little advice. He said, “James! I just can’t get any air on this!!!” So I decide to show him the ropes. I think, “Monkey see monkey do right?” but I was wrong; Very very wrong. I ride up to the ramp, full speed; shouting back to him everything I’m doing, “go fast. Fast as you can! Then right when you reach the jump, stop pedaling, lean back, and AHHH!!!!” I went down. Hard. | My X-Ray of my leg

19: Broken | Some people in the townhouses heard my yelling, and went to go see the damage. I was lying there, spread across the ground. Didn’t think I’ll ever get up. They quickly called the rescue squad. Simultaneously Greg calls my dad. He’s home alone with no car, (because my mom took it to the grocery store) he takes my brothers bike and rides it as fast as he can right to me. As soon as he gets there the ambulance man are already putting me in a splint. The pain is excruciating. My bones feel like crunching snow. It hurts so bad. So bad. It seems like its lasting forever. I’m finally in the ambulance. And as soon as I’m in they start shooting me up with morphine. I get to the E.R. and it’s no time at all before I’m getting my x-rays. They have to maneuver my leg around, crunching again. The x-rays are pretty gruesome bolt my tibia and fibula are broken. The hospital can’t handle my injury so then send me to a different one. By this time it’s 10:00 at night. I finally get drugged and put in a cast. Then as soon as I wake up, I’m told I need to go into surgery and get 2 titanium rods put in. by the time it’s over, it feels like weeks. But it’s finally over. I’m finally going home. It’s done. So I finally load the car, and go home. What a relief. It takes 3 months to recover. But it’s done. Breaking my leg was one of the worst and most memorable experiences of my life. It was really life changing and difficult to get through, but it taught me a lot about change, and about being careful. I hope this makes you think about being more careful. | Me sleeping in the hospital

22: I Am Poem | I am a dreamer I wonder about outer-space I hear the under thought; said words of people I want power, and to be heard I am a dreamer | A coffee cup i decorated

23: I pretend I care sometimes I feel happy I touch peoples hearts I worry about the weakness the human race I cry on the inside when people are ridiculous I am curious I understand quantum physics I say what I think I dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out its true potential I try to comprehend idiots I hope for world peace I am a dreamer | Random pictures i took :)

24: Pretty interesting, right? It was a lot of fun to make and write. i learned a lot about my self, and my family. So I hope you learned a lot about me. Peace out :) | A photo of the sky i took

25: A photo of some ducks i took. | I want to thank my mom, and dad for helping me make this. and for answering many questions about my birth. Also my siblings, for co-operating with the pictures and questions.